


Golden Tattoo

by adventarson (orphan_account)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (very) loosely based off Dress by tswift, M/M, Making Out, New Year's Eve, error: no plot found, how the fuck is it almost 2020, they're disgustingly in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22037065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/adventarson
Summary: “You’re not very subtle, Na Jaemin,” Jeno says softly, smiling as he pulls Jaemin to stand between his legs. “You were looking.” Jaemin runs a gentle hand through Jeno’s hair, and Jeno leans into it, eyes falling closed.“Of course I was looking,” Jaemin says. “You’re beautiful.” He says it easily, because it’s true. Jeno flushes, turns his face to hide in the palm of Jaemin’s hand. “And this shirt,” Jaemin reaches out to run the edge of the material between his fingers, “God, Jeno.” Jeno opens his eyes then, looks up at Jaemin through his lashes.“I wore it so you could take it off,” he breathes, turning his head again to press a kiss to Jaemin’s palm. Jaemin’s breath hitches. Jeno laughs, gentle, soft, and looks up at Jaemin with those eyes, and God, Jaemin would die for him.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 96
Collections: Other Ships





	Golden Tattoo

**Author's Note:**

> Uhh, Happy New Year?? I have nothing to say for myself.
> 
> This is a teensy bit rushed, because I am the actual worst at keeping deadlines, but here it is. Enjoy. Or don't, I guess.

“Happy New Year!” Donghyuck yells as soon as Jaemin gets the door open. He pulls Jaemin into a quick hug, kicking his shoes off, then immediately makes a beeline for the kitchen. Renjun snorts, stepping neatly out of his own shoes and giving Jaemin a hug of his own.

“He’s been like that all day,” Renjun says, nodding towards the kitchen. Jaemin grins.

“Well, he’ll be right in a couple of hours. You have any updates on the others?” Renjun shrugs, and Jaemin trails after him as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“Yangyang said he’d pick Jeno up after work and come straight here, and I think Mark said something about traffic.” Donghyuck swears loudly.

“Why do you hide all of your goddamn bowls, Jaemin, I can’t find–” Renjun snorts.

“Bottom cabinet, to the left,” Renjun says, exchanging a grin with Jaemin. Donghyuck finds the bowls in the promised cabinet and lets out another string of curses.

“I’ve known Jaemin since elementary school, and you’re the one who knows where his crisp bowls are?” Donghyuck slams the cabinet shut, and Renjun laughs at him.

“You wouldn’t find your own way back home, Duckie,” Jaemin says, fondly, and Donghyuck gives him a glare.

“And you couldn’t cook an egg without burning the house down in middle school, but you don’t see me bitching about that.” Renjun snorts.

“The difference here, Duckie, is that I’ve actually learned to cook since then,” Jaemin says sweetly. “You still wouldn’t find your way around the block.” Donghyuck aims a half-hearted kick in his direction that Jaemin easily dodges with a laugh.

The doorbell rings, and Renjun leaves to open it. He returns with Jisung and Chenle trailing after him, both carrying armfuls of snacks.

“Where are your bowls?” Chenle asks, and Donghyuck jumps to direct him to the right cabinet. He sneers at Jaemin behind Chenle’s back. Renjun laughs.

“You must have the patience of an angel to have put up with him since middle school,” Renjun says, fully intending Donghyuck to hear. Jaemin grins as Donghyuck shoots them both the stink-eye.

“Trust me, I don’t,” he says, grin widening as Donghyuck makes another face at them. Renjun whips his phone up and frowns down at the screen.

“I texted Yangyang your door code,” he tells Jaemin. “They’re literally right outside, apparently.” Donghyuck laughs.

“Dumbasses, can’t remember your door code,” he says, and raises a warning finger as Renjun opens his mouth. “I never said I wasn’t a dumbass!” Jaemin leaves them to bicker and goes to open the door.

“Hey!” Yangyang yells, and Jaemin kicks the door open wider. Renjun appears at his shoulder to pull Yangyang into a hug, and then the two are off chattering in rapid Mandarin.

Jeno steps through the door behind Yangyang, and Jaemin almost stumbles over his own feet. His hair is done up, messily styled off his forehead, and his face is curved into a soft smile at whatever Renjun is saying, evidently not in Mandarin anymore.

Renjun gives him a sideways look, and Jaemin quickly catches himself, straightens his shoulders and pulls Yangyang into a hug.

“How was work?” Jaemin asks Jeno, who laughs at him.

“Work was whatever, I guess,” Jeno answers. “An old lady tried to set me up with her wonderful granddaughter, even gave me her number.” Renjun snorts and Yangyang laughs loudly.

“You gonna call her?” Jeno locks eyes with Jaemin and smiles softly.

“Nah.” Jaemin’s chest glows.

“When I came he still had dishes up to his elbows!” Yangyang says, demonstrating Jeno’s struggle. “Hey, nice apartment!” Jaemin forces himself to tear his attention away from Jeno, and scrambles to follow Yangyang as he pokes around the apartment.

“Yeah, thanks, it’s the scholarship,” Jaemin says, and Yangyang snorts.

“You sound like my aunts. _Hey, Yangyang, wouldn’t it be just wonderful if you did a sport?_ ” Jaemin laughs. “I bet your aunts were real happy, eh?”

“Nah, my aunts complained for weeks about how I wouldn’t be focusing on my studies.” Now it’s Yangyang’s turn to laugh.

“Aunts are never happy, are they.” Yangyang grins at Jaemin, then reaches up to ruffle his hair and escapes to the kitchen.

“Yangyang get to you?” Jaemin whirls around to find Jeno at the end of the hallway. A slow warmth spreads through him as Jeno steps closer to tug his hair back into place. “There,” he says, voice quiet.

“Thanks,” Jaemin answers, equally quiet. “Hey, where’s Mark?” he asks loudly, ducking under Jeno’s arm to catch Donghyuck before he gets suspicious. Donghyuck gives him a sideways look anyway, so Jaemin turns up the wattage on his smile until Donghyuck rolls his eyes.

“He said we could start without him, he’s still an hour out.” Donghyuck slips out of Jaemin’s grasp to vault over the back of the couch, landing with a thump next to Chenle. Jaemin takes a slightly more careful seat next to him, and takes very careful note of not looking up as Jeno sits down in the recliner opposite them.

“We’re starting with Star Wars, right?” Jisung asks, waving a DVD. “Or did you guys wanna start with something else?”

“We literally watched Star Wars last week,” Chenle whines. Jisung raises an eyebrow. “So?” Yangyang laughs, also vaulting over the back of the couch to land on the other side of Jaemin.

“I vote Star Wars,” Donghyuck declares, and it’s decided.

Mark arrives, and they put on the next Star Wars movie. And then the next. At this point, there’s more talk than actual movie-watching, but Jaemin can’t hear it. His eyes are drifting, mind wandering, and his gaze can’t help but keep slipping to Jeno.

Jeno looks beautiful, that _damn_ black silk shirt falling open to reveal a small sliver of his chest, and Jaemin wants to touch, wants to trail his hands across Jeno’s strong shoulders and press his mouth along his collarbones, the dip of his throat. He doesn’t. Instead, he curls his hands into his own legs, laughs along at whatever shitty joke Mark is telling, and hopes nobody notices how he only has eyes for Jeno.

Jaemin only manages to keep himself still for another seven minutes.

“...and then, you know what Lucas did? He just, like, reached inside the washing machine and–”

“I’ve gotta go,” Jaemin mutters, shaking Renjun’s concerned hand off his shoulder with a small smile. “I’m fine, I’ll be back in a minute.” He can feel Jeno’s eyes burning through his back as he shuffles out of the living room.

“I should probably check on him, I think there was lactose in that chocolate pudding,” Jaemin hears Jeno say from the living room. Jeno knows very well there was no lactose in that chocolate pudding, Jaemin grins.

Jeno appears in the hallway a few moments later, concerned frown fading as he spots Jaemin standing perfectly fine in the doorway to his bedroom.

“Dumbass,” Jeno says, but he’s smiling, and steps into the room when Jaemin holds the door open for him. “You’re actually unbelievable, you know that?”

“Well,” Jaemin grins, “I like to think it’s one of my charms.” Jeno rolls his eyes as he walks backwards, pulling Jaemin by his wrist as he takes a seat at the edge of Jaemin’s bed.

“You’re not very subtle either, Na Jaemin,” Jeno says softly, smiling as he pulls Jaemin to stand between his legs. “You were looking.” Jaemin runs a gentle hand through Jeno’s hair, and Jeno leans into it, eyes falling closed.

“Of course I was looking,” Jaemin says. “You’re beautiful.” He says it easily, because it’s true. Jeno flushes, turns his face to hide in Jaemin’s palm. “And this _shirt_ ,” Jaemin reaches out to run the edge of the material between his fingers, “God, Jeno.” Jeno opens his eyes then, looks up at Jaemin through his lashes.

“I wore it so you could take it off,” he breathes, turning his head again to press a kiss to Jaemin’s palm. Jaemin’s breath hitches. Jeno laughs, gentle, soft, and looks up at Jaemin with those eyes, and God, Jaemin would die for him.

“I don’t deserve you,” Jaemin whispers, leaning down to press a kiss against Jeno’s forehead. Jeno hums, reaching up to cup a hand around Jaemin’s jaw.

“Yes you do.” Jaemin lets out a sigh as Jeno pulls him in, lets Jeno tug him close and slot their mouths together.

It’s probably the cheesiest thing he’s ever thought, but kissing Jeno feels like coming home. The now-familiar press of Jeno’s lips against his own unlocks something in his chest, turns a key in him, sends warmth spilling through his chest and down his arms.

There’s a certain virtue to having known Jeno since they were four, to having loved him since they were sixteen – Jaemin _knows_. At this point, he probably knows Jeno better than he knows himself. Knows that Jeno likes small gestures of affection, that he melts whenever Jaemin tells him he’s beautiful, that he likes everything soft and gentle. And likewise, Jeno knows Jaemin – knows what to say to make Jaemin’s breath hitch, knows just how to pull that soft smile out of him, knows the things Jaemin is too proud to say out loud.

They _know_ , and when Jeno parts his lips, Jaemin easily licks into his mouth. Jeno tastes of popcorn and of the soda he’d had earlier, and Jaemin groans as Jeno’s teeth graze his lower lip. It’s familiar and comfortable, the way Jeno’s hand comes up to twist into the hair at the back of Jaemin’s neck, the little sigh Jeno lets out as Jaemin thumbs at the hinge of his jaw.

Jeno lowers himself backwards onto the bed, scoots up to put his head on the pillow and Jaemin follows. He hovers over Jeno, elbows on either side of him. Jeno smiles up at him, eyes curving up softly, and Jaemin presses a kiss to the corner of his eye. Then to the other, then one to his forehead.

“Our friends are literally in the next room,” Jeno murmurs. Jaemin presses another kiss to his temple, another to the hinge of his jaw.

“We’ve got a couple of minutes,” Jaemin replies after a moment, pausing to look at Jeno. “If you want,” he adds. His chest glows as Jeno just grins and pulls him in again.

It’s so easy to get lost in Jeno, when they fit together like this. There’s an arm across Jaemin’s shoulder, a hand in his hair, their legs tangled together. It’s so, so easy to forget where he ends and Jeno begins. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe, if they stay tangled like this, they’ll mold into one. It’s a nice thought, and Jaemin sweeps a fond thumb across Jeno’s cheek.

It’s maybe a little _too_ easy to forget about their friends in the other room as Jaemin tugs the hem of Jeno’s shirt free from his pants. He lets a hand trail up Jeno’s side, swallowing the shaky breath Jeno lets out when he presses his fingertips against his ribs.

Jeno’s hands are restless where they’re twisted into the back of Jaemin’s shirt, in his hair. Jaemin can feel his heart beating erratically under his palm.

“Hey, I got you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to Jeno’s jaw. “What do you want?” Jeno lets out another shaky breath.

“I meant it, earlier,” Jeno breathes, voice hitching as Jaemin latches onto a spot just below his ear. “I wore this so you could take it off.” Jaemin drags his mouth from Jeno’s throat to blink dumbly down at him.

“Jeno, we’re–” Jeno cuts him off with a soft shake of his head.

“I know, but,” Jaemin knows what he’ll say before he says it. “Please?” And there’s probably nothing Jaemin wouldn’t do for him. Jaemin reaches for the top button of Jeno’s shirt, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want this, too. Jeno knows, too, if his soft smile is anything to go by. He reaches up to tug Jaemin into another kiss, and Jaemin struggles with the rest of the buttons until he can finally push the shirt open.

“You’re beautiful,” Jaemin says again, and smiles as Jeno flushes red all the way down his chest.

“And you’re a dumbass,” Jeno says, but he’s smiling as he kisses Jaemin again. Jaemin kisses him back for a moment before pulling back to sit across Jeno’s thighs.

He really is beautiful like this. The faint rise and fall of his chest, a lingering blush down his throat, his shirt still hanging off his shoulders and pooling around him. Jaemin stretches out a hand, skates his fingertips across Jeno’s ribs, across the marks Jaemin had kissed into his skin just a couple of days ago, fading now to a beautiful shade of gold. Jeno whines a little, tugs at Jaemin’s shirt, and Jaemin easily folds down again to kiss him.

But there’s more, now, and Jaemin continues down Jeno’s throat to press open-mouthed kisses along his shoulder, along the sharp line of his collarbone, down his chest. Jaemin presses new kisses to the golden marks, too, deepening their colour until Jeno whines.

Maybe they’re being stupid, keeping this a secret from their friends. But Jaemin can’t help but be selfish, can’t help but want Jeno all for himself for just a little longer.

“They’re going to catch on if we don’t get back soon,” Jeno murmurs against Jaemin’s mouth. Jaemin just hums, kisses him again.

“Soon,” Jaemin agrees, kissing Jeno again.

It’s so easy to lose track of time, wrapped up in each other like this. It could have been a minute, it could have been years, but Jeno has just slid a hand up the back of Jaemin’s shirt when the door opens and Chenle barges in.

Jeno lets out an undignified squeak, immediately reaching for the buttons of his shirt. Chenle gives them both an unimpressed look. “The pizza’s here,” he tells them. Jaemin glances at Jeno, then back at Chenle. He opens his mouth to say something, explain, whatever, but Chenle beats him to it. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are. We all know, we’ve just been waiting for you guys to tell us.”

“Thanks?” Jaemin finally manages. Chenle snorts, then closes the door. Jaemin exchanges a glance with Jeno, and then they’re both laughing.

“What the fuck–” Jeno wheezes, ducking his head onto Jaemin’s shoulder. “Oh my God, poor Chenle, we should’ve–” Jaemin just shakes his head, grinning.

“Guess we don’t have to worry about telling them, at least,” he says, and Jeno lets out another giggle. Jaemin runs a hand through Jeno’s hair, and they stay like that for a few minutes. It’s comfortable, and Jeno shifts a little to press his nose to Jaemin’s neck.

“I love you,” Jeno says quietly, and Jaemin’s heart skips a beat. He lets out a slow breath, cards his fingers through Jeno’s hair again, swallows the giddy lump in his throat.

“And I love you,” because it’s a separate fact. Jeno hums, contented, and Jaemin feels it more than he hears it. Jeno loves him, and he loves Jeno. Adding a too feels conditional. Jaemin doesn’t think it’s possible to stop loving Jeno.

“We should get back,” Jeno says, ever the rational, lifting his head off Jaemin’s shoulder. Jaemin almost whines, almost pulls him back, but resigns himself to pressing a kiss to Jeno’s forehead and helping him do up the last of his buttons.

Jeno runs a hand through Jaemin’s hair, eyebrows furrowing as he combs it into place. Jaemin can’t help leaning forward to kiss his nose, grinning when Jeno just rolls his eyes.

“C’mon, dumbass.” Jeno laces his fingers through Jaemin’s and pulls him up. “Ready to go?” Jaemin just squeezes his hand.

Nobody looks up as Jeno and Jaemin enter the living room hand in hand. There are boxes of pizzas open on the coffee table, and they’re all engaged in some heated debate, Yangyang gesturing widely and Jisung frowning. As Jeno and Jaemin stay still in the doorway, though, the chatter dies down in favour of staring at them.

Jaemin raises their laced hands. “We’re dating,” he says. Their friends blink at them.

“Act surprised,” Donghyuck hisses, and a chorus of half-hearted _Wows_ and _Congrats_ ring through the room. Jeno giggles, and Jaemin’s ears are burning as they take seats on the floor in front of the couch.

“We were gonna watch Transformers,” Mark says. Donghyuck whirls on him, looking scandalised.

“I thought we were watching New Year’s Eve?” and they’re all arguing again. Jeno’s sitting close, his shoulder pressed against Jaemin’s, and Jaemin can feel him shaking with laughter.

“I’m glad it wasn’t a big thing,” Jaemin mutters, and Jeno slings an arm around his waist.

“I swear to God, if those two don’t learn to keep their hands off each other,” Renjun mutters from the couch behind them, just loud enough for Jaemin to hear. Yangyang laughs loudly from next to him.

They end up watching New Year’s Eve, because Mark is nothing if not helpless when it comes to Donghyuck, and it’s actually a good movie. Jeno rests his head on Jaemin’s shoulder, Jaemin can hear Renjun and Yangyang commenting the movie behind him, Mark pretending he’s not crying, Chenle and Jisung bickering about which storyline made Mark cry, and his chest is glowing again.

His belly is full of food, he’s surrounded by his very best friends, he has Jeno pressed close to him, and Jaemin feels giddy. And maybe, this is the best end of the year Jaemin could have ever wished for.

**Author's Note:**

> My gift to y'all because I actually passed my fucking finals. Yeehaw.
> 
> Come shout at me if you want: [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/adventarson). Kudos and comments are much appreciated!


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